Twisted Threads
by Rio Antaris
Summary: (yaoi, 1x2/2x1, dark) Duo's and Heero's fates are not in their own hands, and Duo begins to question how he and Heero have managed to survive in the war while commiting reckless acts that would kill anyone else...
1. Shinigami

Title: Twisted Threads

**Title: **Twisted Threads

**Author**: Rio Antaris

**Warnings: **Yaoi. Angst. Language. Violence. Dark. Self-Mutilation. Weird

**Pairing**: 1x2/2x1

**Rating: **R

**Author's Notes: **In ancient Greece, the three fates that decided the lives and deaths of mortals were Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Clotho spun the thread of life, Lachesis measured it, and Atropos cut it. However, in this fic they vary greatly from the originals.

This is dedicated to all the wonderful people that sent me comments and forced me to stop being lazy and write something. For those of you who wanted a sequel to 'Pyromania', consider this...a side story, I suppose...

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Twisted Threads Part I – Shinigami

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It's that dream again. I'm lying in a field of flowers, listening to the birds as they sing in nearby trees, watching the soft hazy clouds floating in the sky, when suddenly…everything begins to burn.

The flames are everywhere, creating a chaotic dance of orange and black all around me, but never touching my huddled form. They seem…afraid of me…

Bleeding. Everything is bleeding. Even the fire has turned red. The blood pours over me, prying apart my clenched jaws and forcing its way inside.

Then it all disappears. All of it. I'm left standing in emptiness, surrounded by black space.

No more fire. No more blood.

No more chaos.

No more death.

Only…

Blue eyes…the angel always has blue eyes…

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A young man leans against the side of the worn brick building. There is a fight taking place nearby, a regular occurrence in this part of town, at this time of night. He takes no notice of it, cool eyes flickering over one of the fighters before returning to watch the charred door of the broken down house across the street. Two minutes later, a girl runs out, the breath coming out of her thin body in gasps as she stands before him.

She smiles at him, and places her small hand into his.

"So, Clotho, where's our next stop?" she asks, her childish voice betraying no emotion.

The man makes no response, simply beginning to walk and tugging her behind him.

"I've been wondering when you'd catch up, Atropos."

His voice is dry and cold, yet strangely more natural than hers had been.

Atropos stares up at the star filled sky. "I had a few ribbons to cut."

"Opening your birthday presents early this year, Atty?" he asks, kicking an empty can with one scuffed shoe.

Seeing that he isn't upset, Atropos smiles once more. "Can't a girl have some fun?"

The statement seems odd coming from her, almost forced.

"Lachesis is gonna be pissed," is her companion's reply.

"Lachesis is always pissed," she sighs, gazing at the moon.

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Duo watched as the shadows danced gracefully on the cracked ceiling above him, trying to think of something to say, some witty remark that, even if he was the only who heard it, would make him feel as if he was in control of the situation.

Sometimes, he mused, he really hated Heero Yuy. And there was no other time that hate was greater than after they'd had sex. This was not the petty hate that one assigns in annoyance or anger, either; this was the deep hatred that could only come after months and months of intense loathing. Duo had had nearly a year.

He didn't need any visual confirmation to know that the other boy was already asleep, as far away from him as he could manage on the narrow yellow stained mattress. Duo did nothing to rectify the situation. He knew that Heero disliked touching him, knew that outside of the sex, which was hard and fast and rough to begin with, any contact made would be on his part, with Heero flinching away quickly. Knew it and hated him for it.

He also knew that things could be different. That lovers often slept entwined in each other's arms, that they held hands and hugged and kissed. That occasionally, they even cared about each other.

Not that Duo thought too much about the last part. He didn't spend his time analyzing his emotions, or the emotions Heero might have for him. There were other things to worry about in a war. Besides, Duo always joked to himself, should he survive, he'd probably be spending a lot of time in therapy anyway, so he might as well let the doc work for his money instead of doing his job for him.

Sighing, Duo moved into a sitting position, running one hand tiredly through his messy bangs. He stood up slowly, not really caring if the motion disturbed the bed's other occupant. Cool air lapped at his legs and he pulled on a pair of boxers as an afterthought.

He quietly walked the three feet from the bed to the cramped bathroom, squinting briefly as the light flickered on in the small room. He grinned at the dirty mirror, relieved when his reflection grinned back normally.

Leaning against the sink, he splashed cold water on his face, more out of habit than anything else.

Duo spared one last glance at the mirror, and opened a drawer in the nearby cabinet, rifling through it for the thin slivers of metal that might be able to take some of his pain away and replace it with one much sweeter.

Finding a razor, he gripped it in one steady hand, looking dismissively at the short scars that crisscrossed over the pale white flesh of his other arm. He pressed the blade into his skin, an odd smile on face as the sharp pain coursed through his veins, blocking out everything else. Duo started to push the edge in deeper when something grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He blinked dumbly at Heero, who only narrowed his eyes in anger. His grip grew tighter, and the razor fell into the sink as Duo winced at the bruising force

Heero dragged the shocked and unresisting boy to the bed, where he pushed him to sit. He walked back to the bathroom and returned with a bandage and wet cloth, the shadows washing over his body in a way that held Duo transfixed.

Sitting down next to his lover, Heero began to wipe the blood away, glaring the entire time.

Duo was about to make a smart-ass remark when Heero surprised him by talking first.

"If you're going to mutilate yourself, at least do it when it would serve a purpose," he informed him.

Duo's eyes widened as possible retorts flowed through his brain, all of them sardonic in nature but none quite right. Finally, he settled on glaring back at Heero.

After a while, though, the silence began to draw too close, suffocating him in its layers.

"You know, Heero, you're being awfully nice to a guy you hate," he commented casually.

Heero concentrated on his task. "I don't hate you," he finally responded.

Duo couldn't help but snort. "Yeah? Well, you should, especially since that's the way I feel about you sometimes."

Heero kept silent, taking the bandage and covering the wound, then shifting slightly to create more space between himself and his partner.

Duo watched the movement with bored eyes. He was tired. Tired of everything and everyone; tired of being tired. He just wanted someone to hold him, someone to make him feel safe and warm and human. Even if it wasn't real. He sat up on his knees and leaned over to hug Heero tightly, tears threatening to escape from his eyes, one breaking free as Heero pushed him away.

"Why?" Duo asked. "Why are you afraid of touching me?" He stopped, scared of what would happen if he continued, even more terrified of what would happen if he didn't. "You're supposed to be..."

He trailed off, waiting.

Nothing.

"Then why the fuck even stay with me, you bastard? Why not just leave?" Duo yelled, hands clenched tightly in the blanket.

"Why not just leave?" he repeated, more subdued, this time directing the question at himself even as he knew the answer. His hands unclenched and he slumped in defeat.

Moments passed before Heero could respond. "I can't." He stared at the floor, refusing to look anywhere near the violet eyes that were visible even in darkness.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Duo lifted his head momentarily from its perch on his knees to wait for his reply.

"I'm tied to you," Heero said hesitantly, not sure if he had phrased it correctly or if Duo would understand. He lay down where he had been sleeping before, facing the wall.

"And just who am I, Heero? The loudmouth baka that always goes one step too far? Everyone's favorite court jester?" Duo asked bitterly.

Heero didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

Duo sighed. "So I guess it's Shinigami after all. And here I thought I was doing a bang-up job at being human, too." His smile was awkward, as if the only reason it was there was because he no longer knew how to frown.

Silence settled over the house once more, only the softened sounds of the street outside filtering through.

It grew too heavy for Duo to carry. "How many lives have I taken, Heero?" he asked, making it sound as if he actually cared about the answer.

Heero didn't know what to tell him, but he tried his best. "I don't know," he answered, thankful that he couldn't see Duo. "But how many lives have you saved?"

Duo laughed at that. He knew he had to seem pretty pathetic for the soldier lying beside him to try to stuff that military bullshit down his throat. "And tell me, O great Heero Yuy, how many of those lives have been ruined thanks to my previous question?" he asked, smiling, eyes still brimming with tears.

Heero kept quiet, but Duo hadn't expected a reply.

"Why don't they just end this?" Duo muttered, willing himself to shut up before things went further than they already had.

Heero had no answer to give him; was unsure of what the question even was.

Duo curled up on his side of the bed, wrapping his arms around himself.

He felt a hand reach out and stroke his hair gently, cautiously.

"I'm sorry," Heero said softly, then moved away.

This time Duo was silent. He was sorry, too. Sorry that a part of him still hated Heero and sorry that, as always, a part of him hated himself even more for feeling that way. Duo closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep, unhaunted by his thoughts.

Not hearing Heero's last whispered confession to the night.

"It's not you I'm afraid of, koi."

***


	2. Chaos

Part II – Chaos

**Part II – **Chaos

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Atropos stares up at the twilight sky as they walk on briskly. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like, to be one of them?" she asks tentatively.

Clotho keeps his eyes fixed on the ground below him. He laughs, but it is a bitter laugh, and carries more pain within it than should he have cried. "Ah, yes, I've always dreamt of being a meaningless string waving about in the wind."

The sarcasm in his voice is evident, but beneath it there is a sadness, one that he himself does not understand and one that Atropos is too wise to question now. 

"Just a thought," she laughs, but her laugh is not bitter. Hers is more maniacal, masking the madness that Clotho is well aware lurks underneath.

_**********************************************************************************************_

"Nothin' like waking up to powdered breakfast and mission orders," Duo grumbled as he sat up groggily. He yawned, getting off the bed and tugging on his clothes, mumbling incoherent phrases towards Heero, who had awakened him ten minutes earlier with the curt statement, "Mission." Soft hazy light diffused through the brown ragged curtains, the only indication Duo had that it was actually morning. 

He stumbled to the small wooden table where Heero was already at his laptop, memorizing the mission parameters. Duo looked over his partner's shoulder.

"Well, at least after this we can get out of this crappy hellhole and maybe meet up with Quatre at one of his ritzy mansions," Duo said happily, spooning up his instant meal as he gulped down the coffee Heero had made earlier.

Heero did nothing to acknowledge his presence, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Duo continued to talk aimlessly, making no mention of the night before and Heero taking no notice of the stark white cloth that showed when he lifted his arms as he stretched. 

Last night had never happened. 

Neither had any night resembling it. 

***

Duo hummed to himself as he and Heero walked wandered through the labyrinth of the underground OZ base. This was the mission they had been waiting for; one that could be accomplished without the use of Gundams and thus suitable for when theirs were undergoing heavy repairs. 

Not paying too much attention, he nearly walked into Heero when the other boy suddenly stopped. About to complain, Duo quieted as he noticed Heero's tense form. He realized they had reached the main section of the weapons sector, where they would separate in order to fulfill their respective orders.

Heero went first, running swiftly towards the computer terminal, dodging bullets from confused OZ soldiers and returning some of his own. Duo watched for a moment before he began to run in the opposite direction, shooting any and all that got in his way with impassive eyes. Flicking away the small beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, Duo made his way to the room that held the blueprints and information concerning new mobile doll designs. The room that Duo was to destroy beyond recognition with the cold metal lump that lay hidden inside his jacket.

He stood near the steel door, tapping his foot impatiently as Dr. G's new device worked to bypass the password security measure and allow him to enter. The little machine finally beeped, and Duo pushed his way inside. The room looked like any other in the base, the only difference being the numerous papers strewn over every inch of the tables and walls. Duo didn't spend any time examining them, more than content setting up the small but deadly bomb in the center of the floor. Fixing the timer, he stood up, brushing away stray flecks of dust on his pants.

"Damn, when was the last time anyone cleaned around here? The year Dorothy plucked her eyebrows?" he grumbled quietly.

It was then that he noticed a familiar shade of blue out of the corner of one eye. 

Moving towards the pictures in disbelief, he stared at the full-color photographs of Heero and himself. 

None of the others. Just them. 

Using one shaky finger to trace the contours of his lover's expressionless face, he saw that his hands were held behind his back, tied with what appeared to be black cord. Looking closer, Duo realized that they weren't tied, they were sewn together. Little specks of red lined the string where it came out of Heero's skin. Fighting down the nausea that crept up his throat, Duo turned to his own picture, shaking his head when he saw his hands were identical to Heero's, except his were sewn with white thread. 

"What the hell? Where the fuck did they…why… " 

Duo continued staring in stupefaction as a thought struck him. "That bastard! So this is what he – " He stopped again, this time interrupted by a soft whimper coming from the entrance. Forgetting about the photos for the moment, Duo went to investigate the sound, finger on the trigger of his gun. 

He saw a soldier leaning heavily against the wall as he sat, one hand clutching the side that Duo pierced through with a bullet only minutes before. Recognizing his assailant, but obviously thinking the boy would spare him, the soldier smiled in relief. "Please," he rasped, a small trickle of blood coming from his mouth. "Help me." The voice was dry and cracking, but too high to be a man's. A woman? 

The person spoke again, suffering audibly with the effort. "Help…"

Duo smiled warmly as his suspicions were confirmed. He crouched down in front of the soldier, thinking errantly that she looked a little like that girl Hilde who'd helped him out before. 

"Hi, there," he said pleasantly. "I'm Shinigami. Welcome to chaos"

Any response the woman might have made was cut off as the finger on the trigger squeezed, silencing her forever. Standing up, he scowled at the corpse, uttering one sentence to drown out the shrieks and wails of sorrow in his head.

"Only cowards ask for mercy."

***

Heero's fingers flew over the keyboard as he hacked into the database without difficulty. Waiting as the important information was downloaded onto a disk, he tensed as he heard someone move behind him. His gun was whipped out and aimed at the young soldier in a matter of seconds. Heero glared at him as minutes passed, noticing how he was unarmed and quaked with fear. Finally, he turned back to the computer screen, checking to see how much time remained. When he glanced behind him again, the soldier was gone. 

Heero smirked. OZ really needed to be more selective when choosing officers. 

Taking the finished disk out of the computer, Heero heard the slightly muffled blast that told him Duo had completed his part of the mission. He walked to the hallway where they had parted and were scheduled to meet, frowning when five minutes later his partner was still nowhere to be seen. Two more minutes went by and Heero couldn't wait any longer. He jogged to the room that Duo was supposed to have destroyed, grasping his gun tightly, and stood in shock as he took in the scene before him.

He watched, amazed in spite of himself, as Duo stood amid a roaring fire, untouched; the flames recoiling from his slightest movement, his eyes blank as he made them dance. 

The room crumbled and smoldered around him, and Heero could faintly smell the dank odor of charred flesh coming from a corner.

Slowly, his weapon was lowered. It would do no good here. 

"Duo?" he called out, silently wondering why any smoke had yet to appear. 

Duo looked up, startled at his voice. Violet eyes, still blank, looked into his own.

And a hand reached out in welcome.

**


	3. Angel

Part III – angel

**Part III – **angel

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"Sit still," Heero ordered, pressing down on Duo's shoulder to emphasize his point.

"I would if you'd stop trying kill me with that goddamn sponge," Duo groused. Heero ignored him and continued to clean the long gash across his forehead, caused by a piece of falling debris during the explosion.

Nothing was said of what was happening when Heero found him. Things like that were easily pushed aside.

Duo kept up his protests, trying even Heero's patience. "Stop complaining," he said tersely as he finished. "Consider yourself lucky that you suffered only one minor head wound instead of dying like you should have in that blaze."

Instantly, Duo's whole demeanor altered, the boy grinning widely at his partner. "This coming from the guy who self-detonated and only got a concussion and a few broken bones?" he laughed, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

Heero put the medical supplies back into the bathroom, coming out with a scowl on his face. "That's no excuse to engage in suicidal behavior for no purposeful reason."

This only caused Duo to laugh harder. "It ain't suicidal if you can't die!" he said cheerfully.

Receiving a glare in return, Duo continued. "There's something special about us. All five of us, actually, but us two in particular. I mean, how many times were there when we should have died only to miraculously survive?"

Heero looked at him oddly. "I thought you didn't believe in miracles," he reminded him.

Duo stopped smiling and lay down on the mattress, facing upwards at the darkened ceiling, thinking back to the night before. "Whoever said it was a miracle?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

Realizing that he'd spoken his thought out loud, Duo only continued staring up, trying to count all the cracks he saw in the aging plaster.

He felt the mattress sag slightly and knew Heero was sitting next to him. He also knew he wouldn't give up until he explained himself, and Duo desperately wanted him to go away. He wanted everything to go away, to leave him so he could just go to sleep and perhaps never wake up.

"Maybe," he started, pausing for a second as he debated whether or not he had counted a particular crack, "Maybe we haven't died yet because we're already dead." Deciding that he had, he moved on with his mental calculations. "Maybe this is hell," he added on.

"This isn't hell," Heero's steady voice answered him.

"Oh, yeah? Well, it sure ain't heaven," Duo replied, smiling slightly at the ceiling. He let out a muffled gasp as Heero suddenly straddled him, framing his head with his hands and bringing his face to rest an inch away from his.

"This isn't hell," Heero repeated, and he bent down slightly to kiss the boy beneath him, pushing his way into his mouth before suddenly moving back to where he was sitting before. 

Duo let out a deep breath. "Okay, so it's not hell," he amended. Even as his inner demons were screaming for him to stop, he went on. He'd learned how to drown them out long before. "But the fact that we're still here doesn't mean we're alive. Maybe we're dead and just lingering before we're…collected."

Duo risked looking at Heero for his response and saw him sitting absolutely still, staring intently at a dirty window. In his eyes there was a sorrow that Duo knew he wouldn't ever comprehend. He doesn't deserve to be here, Duo thought. Heero doesn't deserve any of this. 

An idea appeared in his mind, one so horrible that Duo wondered where it could have come from. But he knew it had always been there, waiting for the opportunity to show itself. Just as he knew that no matter how much he wished to forget it, it would remain forever in the darkened corner of his soul where such things festered and grew. 

"What a lot of wonderful things I know," he mumbled under his breath.

He sat up, glaring at the floor. No. No way. He wasn't going to do it. He couldn't. This was just one of his slightly psychotic moments, and if he let it pass everything would be fine.

But one hand was already reaching behind him, searching for the unfeeling piece of destruction he always kept tucked into the waistband of his pants when it wasn't in use.

A light sweat broke out over his body as he found it.

Beside him, Heero continued to sit stonily, glancing for a short moment at Duo before turning his head slightly to old, burnt door. Outside, it sounded as if a fight was breaking out, as well as another faint noise, one that Heero could not place but that sent chills up his spine.

Duo looked up at him, stopping, for the moment, his internal war. "Is it just me going crazy or do you hear footsteps?" he asked, relieved to be able to crawl back into hiding after his reluctant exposure. 

Heero nodded. 

"Rats, probably," Duo shrugged. An image of the two pictures flashed through his head. Rats. Just rats. 

Putting the sound and the memory out of his mind, he focused on the more important matter at hand. Long, tapered fingers caressed the cool surface of the scythe he now wielded. The gun warmed beneath his touch, and Duo knew that if he was going to do something, he had better do it soon. Before he did something stupid. Before he succeeded in running away from whatever was causing him to grip the trigger.

Heero turned back to him, and Duo could see the confusion etched clearly across his face.

His eyes…

Damn it, it was his eyes!

Angels belong in heaven.

An arm snaked around Duo, something cold and hard pressing into his back. 

Whispered words were breathed into his ear. "And demons belong in hell."

A child's laugh shattered the silence that followed.

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"Why did you do it?"

The question is pushed out in a rush, and hangs expectantly in the still night air. Immediately Clotho regrets asking it.

Atropos looks up through her wispy bangs. She knows of only one reason that will satisfy him.

"He was waiting for me to," she explains shortly, but it is enough for Clotho. "Have I made you sad?" she asks.

It is difficult for Clotho to remember that, in the end, she is still only a little girl. However, he does not reply, for he does not know the answer. 

Her restless mind soon comes to another matter. "Clotho?"

Sensing that he did not hear, she pulls at his hand. "Where do we go now?"

"To Lachesis, I suppose."

"She'll be pissed."

"She's always pissed," was the tired response.__

owari

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**Author's Notes:** I'm going to try to write something sappy to make up for that. I really am. As for the ending, just like Pyromania, I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions. Any comments, questions, and anything else can be sent to [rios_star@hotmail.com][1]. 

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   [1]: mailto:rios_star@hotmail.com



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